Status Quo

Chapter One

Unknown POV

It's laughable to think the smell of desperation would fascinate the Alphas. It's amusing to watch the people of Abaddon scream and fight for a second in their presence, trying to appease their dire need to be seen by them in this desperate hope that they're fated to one another. Why they'd plead to be mated to their own oppressors, the cruel bastards that enslave them, well, I'll never understand.

Watching them swarm the almighty, it's as if they believe being spat in the face by them would be a luxury. It's fascinating in a way, what power can do to an individual. People go crazy in possession of it and those who crave it, they go insane trying to achieve it. Personally, I'd rather eat dog shit than bow at their knees. Would I deny having their power if I was given it? Of course not, that would be equally insane. It would get me out of the squaller I'm surrounded by each morning, but I certainly wouldn't go to the lengths these bastards do.

I push my way through the crowd, their arms flailing in the air as they scream for the Alpha's attention who's entering Phoenix. Phoenix is an elegant bar designed only for the influential. It's less rowdy and more aristocratic than some of the other establishments, such as Inferno, which is whore house and strip club. Phoenix is one of the more desirable institutions to work at in Abaddon because it gets a regular influx of Alpha's and on occasion, a Sigma. Those that work there are deemed to have a higher chance of becoming mated to the gods of this earth. I think it's bollocks, Alpha's want Luna's, not those at the bottom of the food chain. They come here for sex before visiting Empyrean, the home of the Luna's, on the search for their companion, like they weren't balls deep in an Omega hours before.

We're used by them. For pleasure and enjoyment, there isn't anything fulfilling about being in their presence. Nothing desirable in convincing yourself that a night of blissful sex means you'll wind up mated and living a life of luxury with them.

"Oi you, stop trying to cut in front," someone snarls in my ear. I turn to see a large figure, slightly taller and a bit beefier, with a chubbiness to him and a grubbiness to his appearance. A rare sight in Abaddon, where you often see lean and slim builds. Where the sight malnourishment and creatures made of only skin and bones is common.

"Fuck off," I hiss back, my neck jolting forward as I get in his face, the swarm of bodies move from around me, some giving us space as they anticipate a fight. "I'm trying to get to work you prick," I spit at him and he shrinks back, making no attempt to question me further. Fucking Gammas. Every so often they get brave, their obsession with a better life is more passionate than some of the other ranks. They're the most committed to the cause.

After staring him down for a couple seconds longer I narrowly move through the crowd once more, a pathway now easier to navigate after the altercation. There's a precaution to the species around me as they've distinguished a collective aim to prevent arousing any further aggravation from me. I'm a Delta after all, aggression is my middle name.

I find myself free from the constraints of the crowd, the absence of bodies squishing me becomes a relief as I start to head through 'the paradise' of the pits. It makes your stomach turn, that there can be such wealth accumulated in one area whilst the surrounding outskirts are overflown with poverty. It disgusts me. A capitalist monopoly.

The streets are shinier, the windows cleaner, and the buildings modern and slick. Hotels with concierges, blacked-out cars, and an abundance of riches. Compare that to the dusty, beaten streets of Abbadon, the windows smashed, stained furniture, and moulding buildings swarming with rats and cockroaches. You can only laugh at the cards we've been dealt.

I pull on the door to the bar, the metal rusting but overall it's cleaner than most streets in the pits. It's not 'paradise' perfect, but it's acceptable. Sixes and Sevens is the only entertainment that exists for the impoverished. It's a bar for Deltas, Gammas, and Omegas to enjoy a drink and socialise, although, it's more drowning of sorrows. It's a decent enough job, pays the bills and it doesn't involve coming close to the world's suppressors which is an added benefit. It sometimes involves their enablers though, Beta's I mean. They come in looking for sex or to thrive in the tense atmosphere that's created by their presence. Bastards.